


Palpable

by arancar_no_6



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Dirty Talk, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Porn with Feelings, Riding, Rimming, but they're still too shy to say I love you, maine is super liberal with the lube btw, sorta - Freeform, they're grown ass super soldiers who have killed people, wash is incredibly charmed by this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-06-03 21:12:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19472302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arancar_no_6/pseuds/arancar_no_6
Summary: Wash's most defining personality trait is the fact that he is very much a tactile individual.





	Palpable

**Author's Note:**

> Bruh I worked on and off on this for a long time I only meant for it to be like 2000 words max, BUT ALAS-
> 
> First smut ever written but I hope it is at least ok because I still very much enjoyed writing this.

Wash liked touching.

He has always automatically flocked to crowds, bumping shoulders with his fellow companions at all hours of the day, radiating an aura of friendliness that was nearly blinding. Wash flourished in the company of others, bubbly and sweet, enough that it took many aback when he was accepted into the higher echelons of the U.N.S.C.'s most ambitious project.

More so when he was selected to partner off with Agent Maine on the field.

The agents aboard the Mother of Invention gave the new recruit a week to land himself in med bay, a casualty to Maine's latest ire for being stuck with fresh meat.

The newly minted Agent Washington completed his first drop assignment, perfectly content with sharing space with Project Freelancer's most terrifying asset. It was eerie, seeing a comparatively smaller Wash bouncing on his toes next to Maine's lurking form. 

When Wash finally made it onto the leader board for the first time, almost five weeks after joining the project, the blond could often be seen chattering animatedly, using Maine as little more than a soundboard. His relaxed body language and hand gestures were a thing of wonder, as if he was not within reach of a man who could easily chew him up and spit him back out. More baffling was that Maine was not only allowing him to do so, but that he was actively responding to his partner's idle conversation, albeit with the aborted grunts and rumbling noises unique to him; Wash thrived on the acknowledgment.

Then one day, Wash casually leaned into Maine's personal bubble, draping over his shoulders to casually steal a bite of dinner from his tray unscathed. York nearly screamed.

It seemed that the rookie was the one exception to Maine's usual reservations and discomforts with physical contact, unable to deny him a single thing his heart desired.

He found his liveliness amusing, so the first time Wash automatically gravitated to him after their first completed assignment, he let him. He was the only one brave enough to do so.

When Wash began seeking him out outside of their required team building exercises, Maine let him. His idle chattering was almost comforting in the eerie silence of space.

The first time Wash mumbled a scathing remark under his breath regarding the Counselor's latest round of classroom modules, Maine found himself stifling a snorting laugh. It was sort of endearing, the deadpan snark that came from his rosebud mouth. Wash had flushed accordingly, embarrassed that his partner had heard him.

“Shut up,” he mumbled, eyes bright like dew narrowing at Maine's general direction, too shy to look him in the eye.

“Didn't say anything.”

Maine promptly refused to let him live it down.

The first time Wash quietly leaned against him in the privacy of his quarters, head resting delicately against a muscled bicep, Maine felt some restless part of his mind he didn't know existed quiet down.

“Is this okay?” Wash had murmured the first time, hesitant to break the silence and ready to back away at the first indication that he may be crossing a boundary. Maine responded by leaning back into his space, his head bumping into the younger man's with his usual grumble of consent. Wash perked considerably, curling close with easy confidence.

Later, he would be startled to realize how very much like a balm Washington's proximity has quickly become for him.

He was surprised the first time fingers timidly slipped into his palm, settling warm in the cup of his hand.

Maine made the mistake of jerking back, to which Wash quickly recoiled as if slapped.

“I'm sorry,” he blurted, voice tinged with fear and eyes drawn to the floor in guilt, looking everywhere except at his partner. He scrambled to excuse himself, his words failing him, shuffling back to put plenty of space between himself and Maine. He was so sure he would be rejected, already moving to protect himself from certain heartbreak.

Maine reached for him before he could scramble away, hand wrapped around his wrist to pull him closer. Glasz eyes searched his own, stunned. 

“It's okay,” Maine reassured him, earning him a confused stare from his partner, slipping his fingers to thread through Wash's. Grey eyes widened at the gesture, lips parting in disbelief. “It's okay,” he repeated, squeezing that small hand caught so perfectly in his own.

He unthinkingly brushed the fingertips over Wash's flushing cheek, a quiet gesture of affection.

When Wash shyly leaned up to kiss him, his lovely features shadowed in the low light provided by the ship's night cycle, Maine found that there was nothing he could ever deny Wash.

Not that he ever wanted to.

\----------

As cliche as it sounds, it always starts with a kiss. Every encounter they’ve indulged in behind closed doors always initiated from a soft kiss from the lithe blond.

Wash loves curling up as close as he can, seemingly unwilling to allow even an inch of space between the two. Tonight was no different; pressed chest to chest, they shared the same breathing space. “You're so warm,” he chirped, wiggling impossibly closer, hands folded and tucked neatly between their bodies.

They were freshly showered, having just retired from aggravatingly long training regimes. Wash's hair was still damp, freckled skin soft and hot. He butted his forehead against Maine's chin, wordlessly demanding affection.

Maine responded in kind, delicately running blunt fingers through soft blond hair with a ghost of a smile. He could practically feel Wash vibrating with joy at the attention.

“Needy,” he muttered instead, Wash shifting even closer in response, pressing a smack to the corner of his mouth. One hand snuck out to slip under Maine's sleep shirt, fingertips tracing distracting little circles over the small of his back. He sighed, content and determined to blur where one ended and the other began.

Maine swallowed, throat tightening painfully with adoration for the young freelancer laying in his arms.

Wash tilted up to press their mouths together, lithe body stretching alongside his. His lips were warm and incredibly soft. Maine let him, carefully slipping his tongue to prod into the younger man's mouth.

Wash quietly whimpered.

The noises he makes.

It always starts like this.

The shedding of clothing is clumsy. Both abruptly revert to fumbling teenagers as they scramble to their knees, kicking sheets and duvets off the bed in their hurry to strip. Wash sighed at the first proper skin on skin contact once their sleep shirts were shed, burying his face into Maine's shoulder as the man tugged his sleep bottoms and undergarments down his thighs.

Maine thought his partner to be particularly beautiful like this: dotted skin flush with arousal, light eyes turned dark, limbs loose and malleable. He smoothed and petted his perky behind, giving it an appreciative squeeze for good measure. 

Wash arched into his touch.

“Feels good,” he starts panting, breaking the heavy silence for the first time since they started,“fuck, you always make me feel so good.” His tongue darted out to draw a hot trail over the shell of his ear, moaning softly. He presses a damp kiss there, slipping a hand into Maine's briefs.

Maine tenses, hissing at the first upward stroke, cursing at the slow and agonizing pressure of Wash thumbing at his head. He noses at his mussed hair, “trying to get me off early, sweetheart?”

Wash shivers full-body in response, hand curling into a fist around him.“Maybe,” he drawls, voice pitched into a positively alluring purr. Precome trickled from the spongy head, providing a smoother glide for his fingers, “just returning the favor,” he hummed, pressing back into the rough hands spreading his cheeks apart. He lets out a throaty noise at Maine's fingers inching down to touch and rub at his hole.

They continued touching one another, getting each other hot and bothered, mouths refusing to part. Wash finally wiggled off the briefly rolled away, perfect bubble butt on display as he leaned half off of the bunk to rummage through one of the nearby storage drawers. He tossed a half-used bottle of lubrication over his shoulder, eagerly scrambling back into Maine's arms with the giddiest expression on his face.  
Maine was absolutely charmed by his enthusiasm.

By all of him, really.

Their mouths met again, smacking and wet in the silence of the bedroom. Wash's arms locked around his shoulders to keep him close, eyes fluttering shut and already breathing hard. Soft mewls slipped from that rosy mouth and he drank them and swallowed his noises down greedily like a man dying of thirst. 

Wash pitched his weight back, refusing to separate but managing to get his demands across. Maine supported him, hand low on the small of his back as he helped ease the blond on his back. Wash's grip remained strong, urging his partner to lay atop him. 

Maine broke away first, quickly returning to peck the corner of those lovely kiss-swollen lips before trailing sharp nips and sucks down that pale throat, over his sternum, and down his navel. Wash's fingers swirled over his scalp, body undulating underneath him, encouraging him to continue down. His thighs parted under his partner's strong hands, breath shuddering at the knowledge of what was coming next. Maine briefly nuzzled at his groin, head dipping down even further.

Wash automatically drew his legs a little farther apart, a little higher up, at the first slow drag of his partner’s tongue over his hole. A shaky exhale escaped him at the little sucking kisses being pressed there. He breathed in deep, head tipping back, enjoying the sensations and the burgeoning arousal being stirred by that incredible tongue. Ridiculous how someone who avoided speaking in public like the plague could be so good in bed with his mouth.

“Ridiculous,” Wash mumbled, jerking in surprise when his comment provoked a snorting laugh from the other soldier. Maine knew very well what he meant by it. He remained undeterred, carefully grazing at the softening rim with his teeth and pressing in with his tongue. His hands drew him further apart, kneading soft flesh as he continued eating him out until Wash began whining and twisting, body curling away from his partner's mouth.

“You’re going to make me come early,” he warned, playfully glaring at Maine in a mockery of his partner's earlier comment. The little knowing smirk on his face quickly evaporated, throat drying at the intense look being leveled at him.

“On your back,” the larger man's voice was a low and rough command, eyes never leaving Wash's as he easily flicked the bottle of lubrication open, pouring a generous amount into his fingers and palm.

Wash scrambled to shove a couple of pillows under his head to allow him a view at Maine working between his spread legs. His free hand drifts to skim over his naked chest, idly touching himself. He slowly dragged a nail over an exposed nipple, shuddering at the first rub of lubricated fingers over his hole. Maine busied himself with breathing in the musk of his skin, his favorite scent, pressing firm kisses to the sensitive skin of his inner thighs. His tongue flicked out to lick at a collection of freckles near Wash's groin, carefully breaching him with just his fingertip.

Wash sighed, squirming as he threaded his hands through his own hair. “God I love your hands,” he whined, feeling a blunt finger stroke his insides in search for that little spot that drives him crazy. Maine, having had plenty of encounters to familiarize himself with the wonders of Wash's body, didn't waste any time. He fingered him a few more times, slipping a second finger in with utmost care and returning to rub firmly over his prostate. Maine smiled to himself at his mewls, lips brushing over his stretched rim, watching the blond fall apart under his ministrations.

“Look at you,” he sighed, watching Wash eagerly rock back into his hand. He took advantage of his increasing enthusiasm, slipping a third finger alongside the two and adding more lubrication to ease the friction. Washington's head tipped back in pleasure, shivering as those fingers quickened, piercing in and out of him in quick succession. Excess lubrication leaked from his full hole; Maine dragged his fingers out with a wet pop every few seconds, dragging through the mess to finger it back inside of him.

Maine finally pulled his fingers out, hands settling to grip slim hips, dragging Wash a few inches down to properly lie flat on his back. He nudged those legs a little more open, settling between them. The male beneath him sighed, wrapping his legs around a thick waist and locking his ankles together to keep him right where he wanted him.

Another quick application of lube and a near silent oh slipped from his parted lips as Maine slowly pressed into his body. It was a sensation he would never be sick of, the spread always satisfying and so painfully good. Wash shifted, intending to speed things along, abruptly squeaking at the sudden bite to the bob of his throat and the amused rumble at his ear. “Always so impatient,” the larger man mused, sighing shakily at the tight heat surrounding him, “always so wet for me.”

Flustered giggles bubbled from the younger man’s throat, his sweet face flushing from embarrassment rather than their impossibly intimate state. Acting as if he didn’t love it when Maine talked dirty to him in bed. “You’re so gross,” he snickered, as expected, slinging his arms around Maine’s shoulders to draw him closer. His fingers drew nonsensical patterns across the skin there, the touch so gentle it sent shivers down his spine, “who taught you that kind of language?”

“You little shit-“

Wash burst into bright laughter, voice hitching and arms tightening to squeeze Maine a little closer, nuzzling up against him. He hummed and sighed, utterly contented, pressing their foreheads together and simply breathing in the same space. His head tilted a fraction to be able to kiss Maine again, one hand snaking down between their bodies to feel where they were joined. Maine jerked, groaning into his mouth at the curious touch.

Wash's mouth was pressed to his ear, breath hot. “You feel so big inside me,” he gasped quietly, teeth catching on the lobe just on the edge of painful. “Fuck me. Please. I want you to come inside me, fill me up. I want you to ruin me.”

The things he says.

Maine cursed, the first slow thrust making both men moan in unison at the wet sound of their bodies coming together. “Whatever you want,” he panted, driving into his partner nice and slow.

It started just like that every time; taking a few minutes to revel in the feel of one another, the sensation of skin against skin, mouths brushing together in fleeting kisses as they began rutting with greater urgency. 

Washington bit at his bottom lip, muffling the most embarrassing of his noises but not his words. “Harder,” Wash gasped, thighs tightening at the heat twisting in the pit of his belly. Maine stopped momentarily, the fine tremors of his body evident in the shaky grip he had on Wash’s hips. “Hold on,” he panted, carefully slipping out to Wash’s displeasure. The disappointment didn’t last long; Maine switched his grip to the underside of his thighs, gently pressing his knees to his chest and hooking his legs over his shoulders. “Okay?”

Wash nodded frantically, hands struggling to keep his legs in place.

“Good boy,” he praised, taking himself in hand once more to slip back into his partner's warm body, leaning over him to fold him in half.

He received a pitiful whine as he fully breached him again, reveling anew in the wet heat for a few glorious moments. Wash trembled as he withdrew until just the tip remained in him, whimpering again when Maine thrust smoothly back into him. One of Wash's hands reached above his head to claw at the pillows under his head, stormy eyes fluttering and breath coming in short pants from parted lips.

The bunk strained as Wash babbled uselessly, his noises broken up by sharp little cries whenever Maine brushed against his prostate and the lewd noises of skin slapping against skin.

His body was scorching. He was so hot it was dizzying, the glide in and out impossibly smooth and incredibly wet. Wash lay back, enjoying the sensations at first, slowly progressing to meet every snap as he edged closer to climax. They sustained eye contact, riveted by the sight of each other in the throes of passion, only breaking to kiss and pant into each other's mouths. Wash began crying through it, the closeness of their bodies lending much-wanted friction to his own stiff length trapped between their lean stomachs. Maine reached down to close his fist around him, earning a cry as he began rubbing hard circles over the leaking slit.

“I want it,” Wash sobbed, writhing desperately. “Please. I want it, I want it, I want it.” His tongue darted out to lick into Maine's mouth, kisses sloppy with the force of their breathing. “I'm so close. You're gonna make me come you're gonna make me come I'm gonna come-”

Wash stiffened and cried out weakly, his orgasm cresting to grip him like a vice. Maine continued to stroke him through it, pressed impossibly close, panting into the blond’s mouth. His hands scrambled for purchase, crying nonsensically as he came and came, body tightening impossibly further.

Maine eased up on him, letting his softening dick go and slowing his thrusts to gentle and lazy movements before finally stilling inside him. Wash sighed at the brief reprieve, enjoying the thrumming afterglow settling into his limbs and drawing whimpers from his bitten lips. Rough hands smoothed over his quivering belly and sides in a soothing caress, “Good?”

“Y-yeah,” he sounded wrecked, muscles still taut and twitching. He eyed him, thighs tightening anew, “don't stop, keep going.”

“You're sure?” Maine hadn't yet come, but he was perfectly content with ending it there and finishing himself off if Washington wanted to stop. He got an eager nod and the tiniest of smirks from the blond.

He licked his dry lips, legs drawing up and down his partner's sides, “you still have to come inside me,” he squeezed down on the hot length still buried inside him, tearing a tortured groan from his partner's throat.

“Yeah, okay give me a sec,” he found himself blurting, face burning with a bit of embarrassment at how easily Wash reduced him to a horny teenager, eager to satisfy him. Wash, having always had the keen ability to read him like an open book grinned knowingly, allowing him to pull out and watching him fumble for another application of lube, knowing full well that Maine liked fucking him when he was nice and wet.

He didn't have any complaints about this, personally. In fact, he thought it was kind of cute how determined Maine was that he get the most enjoyment out of every intimate encounter.

He'd be the first one.

Wash almost bit down on his tongue as that hot dick stretched him once more, breath catching in his throat. “God that's good,” he sighed, whimpering and squirming helplessly as the thrusts into him started anew, hands bruising on his hips and his partner chasing his own pleasure. Wash enjoyed the sensations, until a sudden stab at a particularly sensitive spot had him crying out loudly.

“W-wait. Wait, stop-”

Wash tensed and shoved Maine off of him. Hard.

Panic broke through Maine's arousal, an apology on the tip of his tongue and erection starting to flag. An icy chill hit his spine, concerned he may have hurt Washington in some way. His alarm quickly morphed into confusion when Washington instead urged him onto his back, clumsily clambering onto his lap.

His eyes were wild, pupils stark pinpricks in the middle of icy irises and lips bitten raw as he shakily knelt above him, reaching behind himself. His fingers wrapped around the leaking dick pressing against him, nudging the head to rub firmly over his wet hole. Maine's mouth went dry, his shocked silence turning into a long keen as Wash pressed the head back inside himself. One arm settled around his partner's shoulders for support, neither taking their eyes off of each other as he sank the rest of the way down..

Wash panted at the new angle, tipping his head back, taking his partner's hands and bringing them to his chest. Maine quickly understood his demands, thumbing at dusky nipples. Wash began rocking in his lap, hips circling in tight little circuits to rub that thick cock against all the right places.

“You feel so good inside me,” he moaned, resting his weight back on his hands and slamming down with increasing urgency. His eyes were dark, tongue darting out to lick at the sweat at his upper lip, “Come on, sweetheart,” he crooned sweetly, punctuating his words with sharp snaps of his hips, “fuck me like you mean it. Make me come again.”

The mouth on him.

Wash was quickly lifted from Maine's lap, crying out at the gaping emptiness between his legs.

Maine threw him on his back with a bounce and was on him again, spreading him open wide and fucking into him with wild abandon, pounding sharp and sloppy. Wash gave an aborted shout, voice high and eyes glossy with unshed tears, scrambling to tangle his hands in his own hair, drifting down to briefly wrap around his own bobbing length, trailing back up to slip his fingers into his own mouth. Those wet digits moved to twist and play with his nipples, the damp friction drawing out higher pitched cries as he began tightening up, unable to stop frantically touching himself as he quickly edged towards his second orgasm of the night.

He came, almost dry and with a near silent cry, back arched with the force of his orgasm. His eyes screwed tight against the overpowering rush of endorphins, a stray tear streaming down a freckled and flushed cheek as he went into spasms. Wash continued babbling through it all, nonsensical as he sank boneless into the mattress beneath him.

His comparatively smaller hands settled over Maine's, hips still rolling weakly, encouraging his partner to continue and finish inside. He looked up at him, chest heaving and eyes drowsy.

Maine only managed a few more choppy thrusts, burying deep into him and against the hollow of his throat with a long moan. He felt more than heard Wash shudder at the sensation of being filled, his soft fingers running up muscled arms and across his shoulders soothingly. 

Maine finally pulled out of him and Washington carefully closed his legs, slipping a hand between his sticky thighs. He fingered at the come leaking from his own hole, his body jerking from over stimulation, blankly staring up at the ceiling. Maine waited for him to gather his thoughts, reaching over to run a hand through tangled blond hair. Wash nuzzled into his touch, edging closer to curl against him. Their skin was tacky with sweat, the room humid and heady and smelling of sex.

Their panting settled as they synchronized their breathing.

“When I said... ‘make me come again’,” Washington finally spoke, swallowing thickly, “I didn’t think you’d actually do it.” his brows drew together and he scowled at him, body still jolting with the occasional aftershock, “Oh my god never mind. I take it back. Stop that. Get that look off your face-”

Maine looked unbearably smug but said nothing. Wash promptly seized one of the few pillows still strewn about the bed to hit him with. Maine anticipated this, catching his clutched fist to manhandle him into his arms and rolling them onto the cooler side of the bunk, snatching up an abandoned bed sheet from the foot of the bunk. He hit the overhead lights as an afterthought, the already dim lighting rolling to engulf their quarters into a full comforting darkness as they bundled together under the improvised covers.

Mirroring their former positions before their libidos got the better of them, foreheads pressed close and arms around one another, Wash grouched but still curled close, reveling in the heat of his partner's body as a satisfying exhaustion settled into his limbs. 

“Should clean up,” Maine rumbled as an afterthought a few minutes later, just as both were on the precipice of sleep. “Nooooo,” Wash whined, body heavy, “we'll do it tomorrow morning...”

“You're all sweaty and gross.”

“But you like me sweaty and gross, don't you?”

Maine made a long-suffering noise, unwilling to challenge him further.

Wash laughed sweetly. His entire body tilted towards him, his simple delight palpable despite having just gone at it like animals less than half an hour ago. “I like you,” he whispered, unbearably shy all of a sudden, “I like you so much.”

A different kind of heat, warm and thick like honey settles somewhere behind his heart at his quiet confession. Maine, amused to no end by his antics, couldn't stop himself from tucking a lock of unruly blond hair behind the shell of his ear. “I like you too.”

Wash's blond hair is a mussed mess, his eyes sleepy and drooping, fighting desperately needed sleep every step of the way. They were covered in tacky sweat and dried fluids, bone-tired, limbs limp and still feeling jelly-like thanks to the last vestiges of their afterglow still running its course. And yet Wash still beamed at him, impossibly joyful despite his fatigue. Maine thought him beautiful in that moment.

Yeah, he definitely liked him a lot.


End file.
